


A Promise Kept

by inkavzpicuous



Category: One Direction (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 21:46:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3625380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkavzpicuous/pseuds/inkavzpicuous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You promised me once that you'd never pull that prank on me again.”</p>
<p>Or, the one where Zayn leaves the band and Harry experiences deja vu.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise Kept

Harry didn't mean to overhear. He just happened to be standing outside the room where the meeting was happening, and he caught snippets of the conversation. “Decision” and “leaving” and “contract”, and obviously, he was curious. He didn't really have anything else to do, seeing as theyd wound up practice for the day. So he hung around near the coffee machine across the room and scrolled through Twitter until he heard the _snick_ of the door opening. Harry's jaw dropped when he recognised the hunched-over figure that walked out.

Zayn!

What was he doing, discussing leaving and contracts? Zayn couldn't leave them. He wouldn't! Would he? A lump of lead settled itself in his heart. He could feel his eyes prickling with unshed tears. He sniffedloudly, then looked around to make sure that no one hadheard it. He wiped his eyes roughly. He didn't even know anything for sure, he wasn't going to cry.

*

He cornered Zayn when they got back to the hotel that evening.

“Zayn,” he started, and then realised that he didn't quite know what to ask.

“Yeah, mate?” His eyes were laughing, still recovering from the crinkles that Louis loved to induce around them. Harry couldn't ever live without Zayn. The band just _wouldn't be the same!_

“Iheardyoutalkingtomanagementaboutleavingtheband.”

Zayn quickly averted his eyes and stared at his shoes, but not before Harry saw something flit through them. He didn't know what it was, though. When he looked up again, Harry's heart broke. They were filled with grief.

“I'm sorry, Haz, I didn't mean for you to find out this way. I can't do this anymore. I hope you understand why I'm doing this.”

Harry bit back a sob and blinked back the tears. He DID understand. Zayn had always taken more pressure than the others, and he got the most shit out of all of them.

He wouldn't cry in front of him.

“When?” he asked, proud that his voice didn't tremble or break.

“The thirtieth of February.”

It was the fourteenth. The thirtieth was sixteen days away.

He mumbled excuses and practically ran up to his room.

*

Zayn found him hours later, curled up in bed with the duvet wrapped around him, face blotchy and red from crying.

“Oh, Harry,” he sighed, scooping him up and holding him close. Harry willingly let himself be cuddled.

“I get it, Z,” he croaked. “I get why you're leaving. I'll be fine. Don't worry.”

“Haz, babe,” Zayn nuzzled his neck. “What date did I tell you I was leaving on?”

“The thirtieth,” he sniffed.

“Of which month, babe?”

“Febru – oh.”

And it clicked. The depression that he'd sunk into was slowly replaced by an odd mixture of fury and an uncontrollable urge to laugh at his own idiocy. In the end, the latter option won and a minute later saw them laughing like they hadn't laughed in years.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Harry sat up, gasping for breath.

“You're never pulling another prank like this on me, though, okay?”

"Never again, Hazza, I promise.”

“You're stuck with us forever.”

*

They grew up.

*

Times change. People change. Promises fade.

Harry knows all these things. He knows that all is not right with Zayn. He knows that they are on the brink of something big. He just doesn't know what.

He waits. He does what he can to bring them closer – he organises club nights and bowling nights and them nights when they just sit in a hotel room and sip beer and watch crap TV and just be.

He watches Zayn on stage and off of it. He is growing distant. A chasm exists between him and them, between him and the band, between him and the audience, butween him and everyone.

And then the cheating rumours happen. Harry sees something break inside Zayn.

*

The next time he stands outside a room and overhears “decision” and “leaving” and “contract”, he already knows what it's about. He shuts his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass pane behind him for exactly thirty seconds before walking away without a backward glance.

It seems like deja vu when he corners Zayn in their hotel, that night.

“I heard you talking to management today.”

Again, Zayn looks down. This time, Harry catches sight of the genuine hurt that enters his eyes for a split second.

And Harry's heart doesn't sink, held up in its place by the thread cage that he's so carefully constructed over the months.

“You promised me once that you'd never pull that prank on me again.”

“I know I did,” his voice breaks. “I wish I were breaking that promise now.”

There's a long pause. Neither of them know what to say. Harry doesn't comment on the lone tear that slides down Zayn's cheek.

“Me too, Z.”

 

_fin_

 

 


End file.
